


Maiuuiluhi (To Be Weary from Traveling)

by likecrackingwater (1thetenfootlongscarf2)



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-06-04 16:40:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 17,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6666274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1thetenfootlongscarf2/pseuds/likecrackingwater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>McGarrett and Williams cross the country to train. Kelly and Kalakaua hunt a killer close to home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BabyCSwarek](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BabyCSwarek/gifts).



They were dumped into the waiting area between the baggage claims of C4 and C5. The heat was cranked high and condensation clouded the weeping ceiling to floor windows.

"You're lucky we didn't land at Laguardia. I love Queens as much as anyone, but that place would be..." the shorter man swore as a heard of co-eds thundered past.

"This place is much better." It was said with a flat agreement that boarded on mocking. His companion had hard eyes, his shoulders tense and mouth thin.  

They pulled their luggage from the belt, a battered brown wheeled case and a seabag with its markings covered in tape. 

"Where are we meeting them?" The shorter man was fumbling with his phone.

"The Governor e-mailed Chin the details."

"I thought he wasn't coming."

"He's not." The taller man shouldered his bag. "There was a mixup. He sent it when we were in the bird. Check your junk mail."

They crossed to the windows. Nikki watched them. She though she was right, but this morning had started at three for her and she'd only been four for nine. 

"Got it." The shorter man's eyes locked with hers. "Hey Steve, you think the girl holding the LEA sign might just be the person we're supposed to meet?"

The taller man was already looking her up and down, assessing. He held his hands very still at his sides. "Might be, Danno."

As they walked over she could hear Williams mutter, "I told you how much I hate that."

McGarret's mouth twitched but he didn't reply. "Hello Ms Harrison." It took Nikki a second. He must had read her name tag. 

"Hello sir." They shook. "I going to take you to the hotel. The briefing starts at nine."

Williams groaned. "Nine? I've been in the air for days and I thought I could get a nap in." 

Nikki looked at her watch. "You could catch some shuteye on the drive over."

His face twisted in distaste but Williams nodded and they followed her outside. When they cleared the second set of sliding doors McGarrett swore and ducked into his coat. Williams looked gleeful. 

McGarrett ducked his head and hissed. "Shut up."

They loaded the towncar in silence. When she pulled out of the lot and looked up McGarrett was already asleep. 

Williams caught her eye in the rear-view mirror. "It's a military thing. If they need to they fall asleep anywhere at anytime. It's annoyingly efficient."

The drive was quiet until they passed Symphony Hall and then Kennendy Street. 

"Almost there." The words came from the back, muttered to the glass. 

Nikki heard William's back pop and he stretched upwards. She kept her eyes fixed on the road but had to ask. "Have you been to Newark before?"

He looked out the window. "I used to work on William and University."

"Oh. They're putting you at the Hotel Indigo."

"I heard. Classy joint. Five minutes from where I lived most of my adult life."

"Do you miss New Jersey?"

"He bitches all the time." McGarrett hadn't opened his eyes. Williams was looking at him. Nikki could see the anger in him that thrummed through this whole city. Before they could get into it she checked the cross street and announced, "five minutes out."

McGarrett sat up and ran a hand through his hair. His eyes were clear, not unfocused by sleep. His parters wasn't doing as well. Despite their conversation Williams still looked only half awake.


	2. Chapter 2

Kelly crouched over a body. He shaded his eyes from the glare of the sun. Below, in the mess of rocks and mud, the techs gathered evidence. Bergman was standing over another. The bones were yellowish. There was none of the usual chatter today. The scene was _malukoi_ , in the shade of death. 

Kalakaua was standing by the blue and whites. She was keeping in contact with dispatch over a radio. When she saw him staring she waved him over. Climbing back up was tricky. His riding boots had good traction. They made the mud less annoying. 

"How many so far?"

There were a few rubber-neckers at the tape. They looked hungry. 

Kelly sighed. "Nine."

"Nine?"

"So far." He watched Kalakaua discreetly signal a uniform to take pictures of the crowd. None of them flinched. "Bergman is hesitant about calling them though."

"Why?"

"Some of those graves are old, cuz." 

There was a shout from below. Eleven now, two bodies curled into another hole, wrists and ankles bound with metal twine. 

Bergman struggled his way towards them. Kelly thought about offering help but that would embarrass them both. As he watched the ME climb dispatch chocked out of the speakers, "10-73?"

Kalakaua toggled the mic in her hand. "Roger dispatch, this is Officer Kalakaua. Plan language, we're good here. How is headquarters?"

"Roger, Kalakaua. Warning, Code N in progress. Looking at ETA of fifteen. Be advised."

Kalakaua looked a bit panicked as she responded. Bergman staggered the last yard to the blue and whites then slowly sat on the ground. Kelly crouched next to him. 

"What are we looking at?"

Bergman tried to push his glasses up his nose. He was sweating too hard. "This is is a dumping ground. Preliminary findings suggest that this was done over a span of years. I'll have to date the bones back at the lab. They are all female and between the ages of twenty-seven and fourty."

Kelly let himself sink down next to Bergman. The stones underneath were sharp. It hurt where he sat on them. Kalakaua handed off the radio and joined them. She passed around a bottle of water. It was warm and made Kelly feel sick. He took a few sips.  He made a decision. 

"We need to call in the FBI."

"Is that what Steve would have done?"

It didn't matter what McGarrett would have done. Instead, he said, "We don't have the experience or resources for this. They might not. This is..." He couldn't find the words.

"Unprecedented." Bergman offered. His face was sallow. "This is unprecedented and experts would be consulted by any rational leader."

Kelly knew it wasn't a dig at McGarrett. If he and Williams were here Danny would have called ViCAP himself. It was just the nature of things. 

In the time it took the local past ten news can to roll up there were three more bodies discovered in a cracking leather suitcase. There was also a sales receipt from 1967, translucent like onion paper, for three sticks of gum and a pack of Camels. It was a cash transaction but charged through a hotel room. 

The evidence was smuggled into the tech van. No one noticed it slip past the tape. Nearby the journalist was preparing for her cutaway. Kelly made sure to stay out of the lens' sight. Word came down from above that the official word was "no comment". A scene like this wasn't watertight though. Kelly hoped whoever decided to slip kept it clean and professional. 


	3. Chapter 3

When they got to their room McGarrett ducked into the bathroom without a word. Danny could hear the soft sounds of movement then the clatter of pills on porcelain. There was the hiss of water. As Steve shuffled back though the door Danny called, "I hope you used a cup, like a human being."

The glare he got in response was wounded and ugly. Danny felt something like a cousin to guilt. They had been going too far for too long and he was worried this bitter mess would implode between them. 

"It's open." 

"Thanks." 

When Danny got back out Steve was unpacking. The comforters had been stripped and bunded into a corner. His go bag was laying innocuousmy on the top sheet. Danny had never seen the inside but he heard the rumors. Anything and everything one needed to get anywhere in the planet in thirty-eight hours. Williams had packed an extra toothbrush.

They were staying for a while so Danny hung up his slacks, folded his shirts, and pointedly ignored McGarrett's expression as he put on a tie. They were in the East Coast. There were expectations here, like in _The Wire_ and midday talking head panels. Here cops were visible in ways they weren't in Hawai'i. Steve lay in his back and watched. All his clothes were rolled and lined the dresser drawers. His boots were staged at the foot of his bed, tied and unzipped. Danny knew he slept on the plane but his still looked haggered. 

Nothing had gone wrong yet, so he could wait a few days to call. Steve needed a break as much as anyone. 

The alarm clock was an old smoke-stained beige. Eight o'five. It was a little after two back home. Kelly and Kalakaua wouldn't be up for another four hours. Steve was looking at the ceiling now. His eyes were unfocused but he seemed to be listening when Danny spoke. 

"I'm going to get breakfast downstairs. Do you want anything?"

Steve shook his head. 

"You need to eat." Danny didn't nag but _with your meds_ hung between them like a shroud. When McGarrett shrugged Danny patiently waited for some words. He'd steal from the continental breakfast if he had to. Danny didn't want Steve's first introduction to proper Jersey bagels to be from here. Also, there was the while point of taking a step back. 

Finally Steve said, "there's a protein bar in my pocket" and ate it while staring Danny down. The whole dog-and-pony show felt like a lame facade but they went though it like they always did. 

"See you at the conference room at nine."

As he slipped out the door he heard Steve argue "eight fifty". Another military action - show up on time and in a high quality manner. 

By eight twenty Danny was sucking down a cup of coffee and fiddling with a ready-stale breakfast sandwich. Tomorrow he would get up early and book it to Frog's. They had great early shift food. If they were still open. It had only been a few years but things had been changing around Danny at breakneck speed for a while now. 

At a table nearby a woman was arguring with her husband while a small girl in a swim suit clamored for their attention. 

"Please?"

"What?" The exasperation on the mother's face was quickly replaced by confusion. "Why are you wearing that?"

"There was a man in the pool."

"It's the end of February. There wasn't a man in the pool."

"There was, there was!" The girl's insistence was shrill. It had the same cry to it that Gracie used to have, back in the slow finals hours of his marriage. He wondered how many monsters the kid insisted lived in her closet. Grace had gotten up to seven.

The man was watching the news on one of the muted televisions as the drama unfolded. He didn't look at the girl once. Danny stood and threw out his food. 

He wasn't hungry anymore. 

He caught Steve lurking at the door to the conference room. People walked nearby or huddled in groups. Only a few went through the door. Some were dressed like Danny, regulation in a way that made their jobs apparent. Most were dressed down and casual. They probably had to travel further. One woman was in jeans, her partner steeltoed. Another pair were wearing matching PD softball team shirts. 

McGarrett was clutching two books. They looked like the neighborhood phone catalogue the Fireman's Union used to put out. As he walked closer Danny became concerned. There was an odd medical stink around Steve. Chlorine. 

"Was that you in the pool?"

Steve looked puzzled, but finally said, "Yeah. Needed to clear my head."

"There was a girl down at breakfast who want to join you."

Steve looked slightly amused. "Really?"

"You're ready for your own fifteen-and-under fan club."

McGarrett was grinning full on now. 

Williams looked outside. There were large windows set into the walls and the whole sky was a brused grey. "I can't believe you went swimming. It was an outside pool, wasn't it? Well, maybe I can believe it - neither rain nor snow nor sleet -"

Steve cut him off. "That's the post office."

"Speaking of, did you do any recon?" 

He handed Danny one of the books.  Across the cover was emblazoned: The Law Enforcement Association's Annual Unit Cohesion Workshop, Seminer, and Practical Training. 

"The itinerary is in the front."

Danny flipped to it. He had never been to one but these month long events were infamous. A phrase caught his eye. It was two weeks away but he underlined it quickly. "We have to go to this one."

"We have to go to all of them," Steve said as he craned his neck. "What did you find?"

Danny was ready to say, "The Fundamentals of Reasonableness. You would make an excellent case study." He remembered what happened only a hour before and said, "Communication in the Field."

McGarrett scribbled in his own book. "Sounds good." Then his watch beeped. 

Danny knew what that was. Ten to nine. McGarrett tucked his pen away. 

"You ready?"

"Always." Danny did not feel any of the bravo he projected. It was worth it feel some more tension drain away. 

The they walked into the room. 


	4. Chapter 4

Bergman was on speakerphone, Kono's cell synced with the thrumming computer table. Chin was trying to find the hotel through decades of backlogs. Right now he was in his office arguing with someone from zoning.

The connection was good but Bergman was whispering anyway. "This is very serious, Officer Kalakaua."

"How many do you have now?" They had still been pulling up bodies when the Governor called. Kelly had gone to placate the higher ups while she left for a moment of quiet. "Fong told me there's not much to go on."

Berman's sigh was pained. "Ageing the bones might not be possible, but I've dated them from about 1960 to nine months ago."

She heard the shuffling of papers. "How is someone active for that long?"

"There's something else." His tone made Kono pause. It was the one he used to break the worse news, the post-mortem sexual assaults, the maiming, the darkness below petty crime. "They're all Kanaka Maoli."

She leaned heavy on the table. The table chirped as the emails trickled in Subject Case 101765. Kono's eyes traced over the information. "Who approved the coding on this?"

"It come from the Sec Gen."

"DNA's not back though." It was all based on thinning hair and teeth wear.

"While I respect your caution, I am considered the expert in this matter."

Kono crossed her arms, bowed her head. There was more than fear thrumming through her right now. It was heady mix of pain and disgust. "So it's official?"

"There's going to be a press release tonight. I suggest you find some way to contact Detective Williams and Commander McGarrett." A few more files opened on the screen. There was a file holding a few hundred pictures. They all looked the same, bones on blued metal tables. "Good luck."

"Thank you, doctor."

She let Bergman disconnect the call as she turned back to the medical reports. The older bodies would be easier to identify as the newer ones had been acid bathed and teeth pulled. The killer had adapted with the times. Perhaps mitochondrial DNA would be useful. The leather bag was also going to be tested. One of Fong's men was working with the metal twine. It had only been used five times. They had been killed in different ways as well. There was little consistency. There was a thought loitering in the back of Kalakaua's mind. She ignored it for now. She couldn't face it alone. 

When standing hurt her feet she moved the files to her computer and took a seat in McGarrett's chair. It was big and deep and soothed her aching back. Kono was organizing the scene sketches with the photographs when Chin walked through the office door. He had a hollow look. She knew he talked to Bergman so didn't ask. 

"Has it gotten out yet?"

"No." He was too composed to scrub a hand over his face. "Not... that. There's been rumblings of serial murder but nothing more."

"Are we needed at the statement?"

"There's been no word from above but I think we can skip it. A friend in the office will email me the transcript soon." Kelly opened up a folding chair and sat near. His shoulders sagged.

"How was the call to ViCAP?"

"I left them a message. We may have to liaison through the West Coast until they get someone over here."

Kono shut her eyes. "Sounds good." Her stomach growled but she ignored it. Her discomfort felt removed right now. The office was very quiet. This had the potential to drag for years, or worse, go cold and out last them all. 

She heard Chin move her laptop.

"I got some news about the receipt. It wasn't a hotel. Thinking it might be a smaller business, a motor court or something like that." He grinned at her confusion. "The pre-motel motel. Cheap, cash based, high turnover and vacancy. Good thing is during that time there wasn't a lot of tourism."

"Do you think this was all a tourist?"

"No." The dumping ground would have been barely a dirt road when the murders started.

It would be impossible. Too many bodies over too many years. This was someone who lived here and hated who they lived with. Finally Kono opened her eyes and looked at Chin. "This wasn't one person." That was the truth. The knowledge everyone was skittering around. 

His eyes were very dark. "I know."

They sat in the office as the light outside faded, cataloging every woman into a separate file. By five o'clock there were an even twenty five bodies and HPD demanded communication silence at the scene over night. Kono helped Chin power down the equipment.

"Go home," he sounded like he was talking to himself. She did anyway. She couldn't sleep. Instead she sat in the dark living room and listened to moths patter against the screen door. 


	5. Chapter 5

He wanted to sit to the far left or right of the stage, in the back with a chair outside the line of sight from the door. Instead there was assigned places. There was a door to the side of the stage. It went to the staff halls that lurked behind the general access rooms. McGarrett shifted in his seat. There was a mess of things at the center of the table.

Danny was already making friends. The pair to this right were from Boston. He ribbed them about a game the Sox had struggled through. Next to Steve a woman sighed. She caught his glance and stuck out a hand.

"Clare Lee, San Fan. You?"

"Steve McGarrett. O'uahu." The meds left a chalky aftertaste in his mouth. After the swim he had to take a burning rinse. His back still felt hot and tight.

She had a nice smile with uneven teeth. "Hawaii. Nice." Lee eyed him critically. "Long flight?"

"Uneventful." He was usually good at this - small talk and getting information though leading questions. She gestured to her partner, a balding men carefully taking notes in the margin of his book. 

"How long have you been teamed up?"

"With Danny? A while." His partner was trying to defend a hockey team now. McGarrett didn't even know Williams cared about winter sports.

Lee nodded. "I understand that. Sometimes I think I know more about Roger then my husband. Good thing they're both boring." Roger looked up at her ribbing.

"McGarrett, right?" They shook. "Ted Roger." Steve noticed the class ring. He never wore his. It was in a lock box with the papers to the Marquis and some of his mother's heirloom jewelry. 

"Colorado Springs?" Lee rolled her eyes as he asked and stood discreetly. McGarrett noticed she took her purse.

"Yeah. It was a good run."

"Did you recommission?"

"Nah. Five and fly. You?"

Steve rubbed a hand on his thigh and shrugged. "Yeah."

Danny suddenly tapped his arm. McGarrett cut his eyes over and noticed a woman mount the low stage. The noise of the room buzzed to a hush. The woman cleared her throat then took a sip of water.

"Hello and welcome. We've had a good turnout again this year. Thank you all for coming." There was some scattered applause. Steve noticed Lee duck back into the room. Instead of walking back to the table she leaned against the wall and watched from there. There was a nervous thrill under his skin. "As you can see there is a free chair at each table. Today we will be rotation with different experts in mediation. This week will be all theoretical."

Next to Steve Danny muttered about paperwork as the woman said, "I hope you brought your pens." There was some polite laughter. 

"If you haven't picked up your books they are at a table in front of this room. There are also name tags ready for you." There was shuffling as people put them on. Danny flicked Steve's over. It was white paper laminate that read S. McGarrett, Hawaii in bold. He fiddled with the pin until he got it to work. Danny put his on cockeyed and was struggling to fix it without taking it off again. Lee took the noise as cover. As she slid into her seat Roger palmed her a badge. 

He noticed Danny pointely drop another protein bar next to his hand. Steve tucked it away. The woman was still talking. He watched the shape of her mouth but couldn't hear anything. She soon finished. There was less applause as she got off the stage. At some invisible signal few people entered from the side door. One crossed to their table. Steve pegged her as mid-sixties, bottle dyed hair. A smoker. 

"Hello." Her voice was a low rasp. "I am Dr. Gale Stensen." Her eyes were hard. "Let's go around and introduce ourselves. Rank, names, previous occupation." As she spoke she sat down. Her movements were controlled, tightly wounded. Danny chuckled next to him. Most of them, Steve realized, had never had a previous occupation. That was the joke. The pair from Boston were both in Crimes Against Children. Evens and Karr.

Danny fiddled with his pen as he talked. "Detective Danny Williams. I used to work Homicide here - Newark - but I transferred and now do major crimes." 

"Thank you for sharing." Setnsen kept saying that. It seemed to wind Danny up. Then she looked at Steve. "You?"

"Lt. Commander Steven McGarrett, ma'am. Five years Naval Intelligence and six after BUD/S Class 203."

Roger had turned when McGarrett said his title and looked calculating. "What's a SEAL doing in police work?"

Dr. Stensen frowned. "You don't have to answer that if you don't want to."

"It's fine. I'm in the reserves now."

Roger didn't look convinced. "There's no such thing as an ex-SEAL."

"They can age out." That was Danny. "And Steve's good at what he does. One of the best shots I've ever seen."

"I'll bet." Roger slouched in his seat.

Dr. Stensen turned to Lee, letting the moment pass like water. "And you?"

Lee was short and direct. Rogers was even less forthcoming. Stensen opened her own copy of the book. 

"Please turn to page five." 

Steve noticed Danny flip to the back. Over four hundred pages. Christ. 

It was a quiz. Carefully not looking at Danny he wrote _swimming for survival_ and _complaining_ under "passions". He knew Danny had packed an extra dose of his meds. They were tucked in the back of the box of ties. That was enough to make Steve feel petty. It was going to be a long month.


	6. Chapter 6

The topic was studied but taboo in academic circles. As Wei Lu let Chin into his low-slung bungalow Kelly saw the same expectation.

Lu's dog had found the first body. The ground had eroded during a typical midday winter downpour and a few bones had slithered free from the mud. Animal Control was called first. Lu thought it was an illegal pet buried away from prying eyes. The responding officer called Me Gon from his cell. Word hadn't gotten to Kelly until hours had passed. 

Less than a day later he stood in Lu's living room and asked pointless questions. 

"How often do you walk your dog there?"

"Every day."

"Have you see anything unusual recently?"

"No."

"Are you are concerned about your safety or the safety of those around you?"

"Yes."

"Could you please elaborate for the record?"

"Sure." Lu challenged the syndrome head on. "It's all Indians, am I right? Aboriginals. That's what the mayor said last night. So, sure. I'm worried there's going to be another thirty bodies that you guys won't find."

"Thirty in addition to the current number? Or are you aware of a different location?"

"This is stupid." 

Kelly watched him pace. 

"In what way?"

"If this was all tourists, all from the mainland, they would have the Army, hell everybody, like it was Midway or something."

"We're going to do everything we can." The promise felt hollow for the first time. 

"No offence to you and your work, but HDP and 5-O have shit on this. Shit." He stopped pacing and looked Kelly in the eye. "I went to school in Alabama for a month."

 Chin waited. Then he handed over his card. "Give me a ring."

"Sure." Lu was distracted by his dog. "Shoots. You know where the door is."

Chin let himself out. 

It was too dangerous to bike in the rain so he pulled the Mustang from storage. It gleamed in the weak fog-shower that floated down. Traffic would be a crawl today. He imagined being a rubber gun again. That would be the ache he would carry if they didn't crack something soon. The cut-at-the-knees feeling he wore like a badge.

He wanted to talk to someone but the quiet was helping him sort the mess of his mind.

Kono organized a sit down right now with Bergman and a few techs and some others; a kahuna, a priest, a state lawyer. It would have to be navigated carefully. His cousin was right for this. She had a place to stand in many worlds.

When he drove Chin thought about calling Danny and Steve. Last night he simply forwarded the press release. Danny didn't reply.

It was too early to drink, too late to appreciate cutting out of work early. His phone rattled in the glove box. He let it go. Only Kono and Duke would call more than twice. The message would keep.

He wondered if this would reach the mainland. Maybe some young, eager self-described journalist would fly over to poke for a bit and try and sell the work to a media conglomerate. Worse, it would be a group of them trying to film a documentary. Kelly pushed the thought from his mind.

DNA would take another few days. Departments around the islands were collecting swabs for comparison. The usual mainland database was to monogenetic for this case. Everything about it was disturbing. There were dozens of bodies, killed in differing ways, all months or years apart. HPD had allocated fifteen officers this morning. 5-O was supposed to be back burner during McGarrett's absence. Instead Chin was trying to run this. He felt like he hadn't slept in days. It had been only fifty hours since Lu and his dog took a walk. The time passing felt like months. 

As he turned into paved road the radio crackled. Chin forgot he left it on and lost the signal. The music was tinny and came in and out. Some pop feel-good track. He left it on as he cut though the valley fog. Decades. 

How did they miss this? Kelly worried that this was not conspiracy, but indifference. 


	7. Chapter 7

Danny knew his partner wasn't sleeping. When Steve hit REM he wheezed in a way Williams thought BUD/S would have trained out of them. 

The first night McGarrett's voice echoed behind the shut bathroom door. It was no use. The Governor was letting Chin and Kono help, technically. For the time being 5-O was still shuttered and he and Steve had to finish what they started. When Danny opened the press release he didn't really think as he read it. Only after he put it down did he start during it over in his mind. 

Were hate groups big in Hawai'i? Cults with nihilistic, xenophobic end-times predictions? Danny couldn't imagine there were many. Chin forgot to tell McGarrett he contacted ViCAP. Danny hasn't found the time to tell him either. 

Right now Williams was lying feet away and knew Steve had his eyes open. McGarrett slipped out of bed. As he left the room the hall light sythed across the floor. Danny waited three seconds, four seconds then crept into the bathroom. He looked like shit in the mirror. Maybe he was sleeping too much. They were released at three every day and all Danny did was go up the hotel room. His clock hadn't switched over yet. And it was any easy excuse for avoidance. 

Steve's swim shorts were missing from the hook on the back of the door. The pool was open 24/7 and at your own risk. That was the only reason McGarrett was getting away with it. Danny rinsed his face and drank from the tap. Some spilled on the front of his shirt. 

He paused before he did it. Then he lined up the translucent orange bottles and counted the pills. The right amount was missing.

It didn't mean much.

The first month Steve just dropped them down the sink. Then he took them but ate and drank the same. Danny hadn't said anything, just pointedly ordered an extra glass of soda water or juice. Maybe it was the talking that helped more but one night they sat in the darkness and McGarrett didn't open a beer. 

Danny rolled the bottle of prazosin in his fingers. It would be cruel to call this early but the clinic insisted the line was open always. It rang four times before someone picked up. 

"Hello?"

"Hi. This is Daniel Williams calling about Steven McGarrett's treatment. His VA patient code is NV-59334."

"Patient's branch and status?"

Danny set down the bottle and tried not to groan. "Naval reserve."

"Current location?"

"Newark, New Jersey."

"How long has the patient been in treatment though the VA?"

"Four months."

"Thank you for you patience Mr. Williams. I'm going to transfer you to the active manager for Mr. McGarrett's case. Please hold."

From the phone trickled cheap sounding classical music interspaced with overly cheerful sound bites about Veterans Affairs. It was always a bit too loud to be comfortable. Danny learned quickly that the closer to midnight you called the shorter the wait time. The timer on the phone call showed 47:12.

There was the sound of the line clicking over. 

"Hello, this is Martha." Good. Martha was good. Danny sat on the edge of the tub. He knew Steve wouldn't be back for a while. 

"Hey Martha."

"How are things going?"

"Not well." It felt like relief to admit. 

"Is Steven taking his meds?"

"The bottles are being emptied."

"Does he not take them at meals anymore?"

"We're across the country at a seminar right now." Steve wouldn't even take the pills into state headquarters. Medicating in front of complete strangers would not even cross his mind, Danny guessed. What a jackass. "His therapist has a local doc staged for treatment. Solid reference."

"How often is he supposed to go?"

"Twice a week." Sometimes Danny was sure Steve never even left the lobby, just lingered there for an hour until Williams rolled up in the Camaro again.

"What congnative-behavioral treatment is he in?"

"CPT."

"For four months?" CPT was usually a twelve week program. McGarrett always did go above and beyond.

"Yeah."

"Has he exprenced treatment failure before?"

Danny looked down at his bare feet. The tiles were chilly. "Not that I'm aware of."

Martha breathed out heavily. "His file says that he was in for about eleven years but he only started using VA's psychological services a few months ago. Can you speak to the change?"

"It was a condition of continued employment."

This never changed. The same hold music, the same questions, the same answers. 

"Thank you for your cooperation Mr. Williams. What are you concerned about?"

"As I said earlier, we're pretty far from home and will be gone a while. A case just broke - looks like a major hate crime - and he has... He's not sleeping again."

"How long have the new symptoms being going on?"

Not new symptoms. The same shitty carousel Steve rode - constricted affect, self-destructive behavior, sleep problems, concentration problems, the crowning jewel of hypervigilance. "Two nights. But he's exercising obsessively again. It's been a long time since that cropped up."

Steve's issues were always about control. How much he ate, how long he slept, how far he ran. Issues. It was all issues twisted into a rat king inside McGarrett's brain.

"What would you like to do?"

"He has appointments starting in a few days on a Tuesday-Friday schedule. I'd like to see if he can go today."

"That's short notice."

"It's also Wednesday. There wasn't an appointment yesterday because someone on your end thought it was unnecessary. As if a dramatic change in location and environment isn't going to cause problems."

Martha didn't respond for a moment.

"I understand you're upset Mr. Williams." Danny didn't feel bad about raising his voice. He needed some venting where he could find it. "I'll flag this and have an answer by nine thirty. When is Mr. McGarrett free?"

"After three twenty EST."

"Alright. Thank you for your cooperation Mr. Williams. Is there anything else I can help you with today?"

"No. Thanks Martha."

They said their goodbyes then Danny sent the phone spinning across the floor. When it cracked into the moulding it wasn't as satisfying as he expected. 

He left it there, turned off the lights, and crawled back into bed. Around six he half woke up when McGarrett crept back into the room. He smelt like a natatorium.

Danny pulled a face as he sat up. The tub was a bad place to sit for two hours. He looked at Steve.

"Breakfast?"

McGarrett hesitated, then nodded. "Sure." While he was in the bathroom Danny ran a comb through his hair and pulled on clean clothes.

Steve looked confused as he handed over Danny's phone. There was a chip in the top left corner. By six fifteen they were ready to leave. McGarrett kept looking at the phone. Danny was tapping the crack. He could feel the uneven edges.

They didn't talk about it and Steve followed him out of the door.


	8. Chapter 8

The surf creamed around her ankles and the salt stung her eyes.

There was someone waiting for her when she got out of the water. Clutching a notebook gave it away.

"You know the answer is no commment, right?"

The other woman feel in step beside Kono. "I know." She made no excuse. "I still want to talk about the case."

Kono stabbed her board into the sand. "And I can't talk."

"So listen." Her fingers were smudged with ink and the voice recorder on her belt looked five years old. "I'm Pauahi Kekoa with _Kaulana Hoo_."

"I've heard of it." It was a Hawaiian language newsite. They mostly focused on local politics and school events. Kono waited for more.

"This case is very important to our community." Kekoa stressed the 'our', looked at Kono meaningfully. "I just want to know how things are going and if there is anything the paper can do to help."

The meeting yesterday was tricky and left everyone feeling used. The bodies were in custody of the state. There was concern over proper religious practices. Thirty minutes were dedicated to discussing how the bodies shold be inturred. That was tabled.

Five of the skulls had been cast and the measuements were shipped to the Smithson. Their anthropological department reached out to the Governor personally to offer assistance. The National Museum of the American Indian earmarked a grant for case resources. Chin got the email this morning. It was an incredible amount of money. Kono couldn't say  any of that.

"We have fifteen officers assigned to the case right now. We've been collecting infomation to help with identifying the women."

"And finding the killer?"

"This is an active investigation. I'm sure I don't need to tell you how long this could take."

Kekoa fiddled with her pen. "There are people who won't talk to the cops." It was true. Kono knew what was coming next. "They might talk to me."

"They might."

"I'd pass the information along." It was a clean offer. She wondered where the strings were.

"What's the catch?"

"Have some cops come talk to the community. Vist schools, meet the parents. People are scared."

Her board shifted slightly. Kono reached out to steady it. "There is already a hotline for counseling."

Kekoa shook her head. "That's not enough. Can I at least get an interview for the podcast?"

"I'll have to talk to my super."

"I thought McGarrett was out of town." Kekoa had bright, clever eyes.

"Still got a boss." Kono pulled a card out of her waterproof ankle bag. "Give me a call after lunch. I'll see what I can do."

"Mahalo."

She felt the journalist's eyes on her back as she strapped her board to the racks on her car. Before she turned over the engine Kono pulled the site up on her phone.  There was a whole tab dedicated to the case. The breaking headline screamed  **Thirty Two Bodies So Far** and in the subheading a quote from an unconfirmed source that there was a second dumping ground. She took a screenshot and shot it off to Chin. 


	9. Chapter 9

After they break for the day Danny tries to hussle him out of the conference room. McGarrett is getting sick of the stale atmosphere of the hotel. It's been four days and he's ready to bail. Chin has been as forthcoming as a stone wall over the case. No one in HPD will tell him anything. Duke, under the guise of checking in, told him his email was blacklisted on their servers. There was no way he could be involved.

Steve didn't find out about final count until Kono let it slip over text last night. His world has shrunk to the breakfast room off the lobby, room 477, the rooftop pool, and here. Williams pulled the book out of his hands.

"You have any plans tonight?"

Some of the group from the West Coast had invited him to grab a slice. Danny looked eager and focused so McGarrett paused. He hadn't really seen his partner since they landed.

"No."

"Great. I got us reservations." He raised his right hand. A set of keys dangled from it. "And a car. Let's go."

"Sure."

He let Danny drive. The buildings were massive. The cities in Hawai'i were small and thin like saplings. Newark had run out of room so it grew upwards. Steve couldn't keep track of the possible sniper nests, every bump in the road an IED. His head hurt. The noises were frustrating.

"Can you turn on the radio?"

"Yeah." Danny spun the dial. He stopped on a Billy Joel number. Steve closed his eyes and just focused on the words.

Three Springsteens and one Johnny Cash later he felt them leave the road and enter a parking garage.

"No valet?" Steve cracked an eye. It was dark. Some of the lights thrummed in the chill.

"Hawai'i has made me nervous of a lot of things I used to take for granted. Football games, valet parking, walking down a street in broad daylight." As Danny got out of the car McGarrett followed. "Don't forget nature. I used to love that stuff until I moved somewhere where it all wants to kill you."

"There are no bears in Hawai'i."

"Right. Just snaks and sharks and jellyfish and annoying endangered asshole geese."

"You like the nēnē."

"No, I tolerate them. Do you know what a normal state bird is? A goldfinch. Which is New Jersey's, by the way. Not some freak-of-nature dinosuar dead-end."

"I'm learning so much about your hidden depths Danny."

"Zip it."

The inside of the building looked like some middle management office. Off cream tiles, dull papered walls, the hint of stale air. They walked into the elevator. It was empty. Steve watched Williams pick the fourty-first floor. He then fiddled with his phone.

"Are you getting a signal?" McGarrett had no bars.

"No. Just outlining the day to send to Grace."

"I'm sure she loves knowing what to do when a subordinate misfiles a piece of hot evidence. Or the wonders of state birds."

Danny ignored the comments. "She wants to know if you're going to join the Polar Bear Club."

"I'm an Eagle Scout."

"Of course you are." Danny looked amused. "Its a group of people who like to cut holes in the ice and go swimming."

"Sounds fun."

"Sure it does."

The doors opened. Danny made a hard right. He opened the first door on the left and ushered McGarrett through. The room had wood floors. Inoffensive woodland prints lined the walls. It looked like was waiting room of a dentist office.

Steve froze. "No."

The woman at the reception desk looked up. "Are you Mr. McGarrett?"

"No."

Danny was off to the side, thumbing through a pamphlet on PPD. He didn't meet Steve's eye. Shit. Fuck. That traitor. The thrill under his skin was back. When the receptionist stood McGarrett looked back at her. He took a few deep breaths. It only made him breathe faster.

"The doctor stepped out for a moment. You can wait in his office if you prefer."

Steve nodded shortly. He followed her down a hall. It was as unassuming as the rest of the building. For every step he took he tapped it double time in his leg. _One two three and a quarter, I got a date with the contaminant's daughter..._

The room inside was small. There was a desktop computer and two office chairs. Their padding littered the floor. When Steve sat in one he could feel the wood underneath. She closed the door. There was no lock on the inside. Fifty minutes of this bullshit.

A few seconds passed. The doctor let himself in.

McGarrett stood to shake his hand.

"Alex Pauzicka. You must be Steve."

"Yeah."

They sat.

"I've read your file and spoke to Hanson on the phone. I was under the impression you weren't coming until Friday-"

McGarrett cut him off. "I didn't plan on coming today."

"Right. Well, the VA called and you usually have sessions on Tuesday and Friday, right?" Pauzicka barreled on. "Regardless of the situation you cannot go more then four days between them. This was clearly stated in your treatment plan."

"I know. This week has been a bit... Crazy. I just forgot. It won't happen again."

"Alright." Pauzicka turned to the computer. He tapped a few keys. "Have you been taking your prescriptions as directed?" He didn't look over as he spoke.

"Yeah. Yeah, I have." It surprised Steve to feel himself finally start to relax. The thrill under his skin was easing slowly. He'd done this before. He could do it again. It was just talking.

"Can you describe how you felt on the drive over from the hotel?"

"I was nervous." The hum of the tires. The glare off the millions of windows like squinting eyes.

Pauzicka turned his chair around. "Would you take a moment to explain the difference between being nervous and being afraid?"

"I'm not good that this."

Pauzicka handed McGarrett a small thesaurus. He lothed this part. "Use this to help."

Steve ran his thumb along the pages. His hands trembled slightly. The paper hissed the air, moving too fast to read. "I know the difference. I just don't want to talk about this right now. I was set up."

"Did you assume that because of your plans you could skip a few of these?"

"I thought I could get a break." Steve shot back. "Instead I have to keep doing this while there's possibly the biggest case of the decade unfolding back home - which they have stonewalled me from- and Danny lied to me to get me here."

"Can you describe your feelings, using the book, in three different words?"

When McGarrett finally left the cramped office space he felt drained.

Danny bundled him into the car after promising the receptionist they would be back on Friday. "I do have plans for us for dinner." It was as close to an apology as Danny could make right now.

Steve just nodded. He felt stoned, cotton-headed. He didn't cry this time. The nervous buzzing was gone for now. It never got easier but it was starting to feel... Not good, but less suffocating to pick through his own brain. Overhead the buildings didn't seem so sinister. Danny wove them deeper east. They passed through Weequahic and under the Garden State Parkway. Danny steered them into a lot with a single story chrome and brick building.

Steve looked at the neon sign. "Don's Diner?"

"Classic American sustenance Steven. No fruit in pizza, no gravy on rice. Real food."

"Alright." McGarrett looked at his lap. His hand were still. "I could eat."

"You could eat?" It sounded like he wanted to keep Steve talking more then any interest in his appetite.

"Sure, Danno. I could eat."


	10. Chapter 10

"There is no fault to lay at someone's feet, yet."

Kelly had walked the seven blocks here. Today the weather was supposed to be clear. It was humid. The case rattled around his brain at night. It had been the catalyst for true forgiveness that had been lacking. Family that ignored him for years now called in the evening, fishing.

When he walked into the building he wished his raincoat kept back the cold.

Dongmin Seo set three files down on the table between them. It was kept chilly in the labs, dim, as if to give the impression they were underground.

"Then what do you have?" Kelly didn't like playing these word games.

"I spoke to Dr Bergman a few days ago. He did mention mitochondrial DNA to you, if I understood him correctly?"

"Yes. It is good for familial matches. Generic markers from the mother in the x-chromosome."

Seo opened the files. She flipped around the results like a dealer. Three of a kind.

"We have first cousins."

It was a breakthrough so severe Chin was speechless.

"What about comparison to the known samples?"

"It's going to take a few more weeks. These ones have been flagged for priority."

"With a living relative we may have a witness pool of ten. Or more." Kelly tried not to get ahead of himself. "Could you send this to my office?"

Seo agreed. When she shook his hand it felt like gripping ice.

  
He didn't make it far outside. He crossed the street and sat in the shade on carefully tended hotel grass and called Kono. "We have first cousins." Her exhale was shaky over the line.

"That's good. That's something we can run with."

Kelly grinned. "There's a team from ViCAP landing at 1400. Think you can get them?"

"Sure. Any news from Newark?"

"Danny says things are fine."

"Steve?"

"He's obsessed with the case."

There was a guilty silence from the other end.

"What did you tell him, Kono?"

"Just the final count."

Chin tipped his head back. "He can't handle this right now."

"What do you mean?"

He watched the waves curl on to the sand. The seaweed trapped in the water writhed. It was like fractures in dark glass. "Steve's had standing appointments twice a week for months now. What do you think that was?"

"I don't know. Is he sick?"

"He was in the military for half his life. The regular psych evals stopped since his father died."

"How bad is it?"

"Danny says there's progress. The Governor made this part of his contract. If he quits... He's out of 5-O."

"The case?"

"They're half a day from us. We can barely liaison with the mainland, much less them. They have their job and we have ours." It started to drizzle. The rain kept running down his arm and polling at his elbow. Chin switched hands. The phone was damp and stuck to his face. 

"Any updates on your end?"

"The motor court is still a dead end. Unless we find it and get records of employment or a guest register we're out of luck."

"Kekoa called me this morning. They want someone out there by Sunday."

"The podcast?"

"Yeah."

He rubbed his hand across the grass. It was damp and itched a bit. "I'll do it. Give her my cell number. We can record it at state headquarters, let her get some photos too." He knew what she was about to ask. "We need them on our side. Maybe this is the attention the case needs."

"Cohen has a mockup for skull C14 ready. He thinks two more will be done by Monday." Facial reconstruction wasn't a recognized science, it couldn't be used in evidence-based arrests. But it could be used to jog someone's memory.

"Good. We can do some footwork with that."

"Are we looking for relatives or just people who've seen her?"

"Both."

"Alright. Shoots, Chin."

He bought some food and ate it out of the box, hot and spicy, standing on the sand. In the water he could see the silhouettes of fish meandering. The great bulk of a sea turtle passed.

Things were going to happen. He could feel it. The first domino, the three of a kind, had fallen. The rest would follow.

There was an electric bite in the air. A storm was rolling in.


	11. Chapter 11

Williams watched Steve in horror.

After the session yesterday McGarrett collapsed into his bed and slept hard. Pauzicka wanted to wean him off the meds slowly. Danny had kept his bedside light dim and read though a thin  pamphlet about police procedure. By the time eleven rolled around his eyes hurt and the pages were tacky with drying highlighter ink.

He set his alarm early. New Jersey got a bad rap. Everyone, even as far from reality as Hawaii, knew the jokes. Suburban New York, the Wrong Side of the Hudson, the Greater East Coast Landfill. Just the usual crap.

But this - this was true Jersey. A diner half empty, the grimey sunrise, a bitter cup of joe. Untill McGarrett runined it by being an animal.

"You cannot do that to your coffee."

"What?" Steve had covertly dry-swallowed his pills in the car on the ride over. The streets had been dark. It was a half dose today. 

Danny gestured with his fork, hashbrown flopping on the tines. "That's disgusting. It's so disgusting I bet it's not even an island thing. They taught you that in the Coast Guard - by land, air, sea. Butter in coffee. Were you dropped as a child? Is that a McGarrett cultural practice?" There wasn't real butter on the table here. It was the oil-based chemical yellow stuff that came individually wrapped in aluminum rectangles. Which made it worse.

Steve was trying to chew his eggs. He ate like a homeless college freshman. Danny was pretty sure table manners were part of the whole officer and gentleman shtick. Maybe he was absent that day.

They were sitting so Steve had a clear view of the front door. Danny glanced around the room. Most people were bellied up to the counter. The shiny red covering creaked comfortably underneath him. This place felt like that good first strech of the morning.

"Mouth closed when you chew. Chew then swallow. It would be embarrassing if you survived all that and die in Jersey gasping on dry toast. Don't give me that look."

Danny poked a water glass until it butted up to Steve's plate. "Drink it." When McGarrett almost chocked in his haste Williams added, "slowly."

Frog's used to be the place he hit before every shift. It was three minutes south of the local precinct's front door. Mickey's family owned the joint since it opened. Behind the register was the whole clan framed and beaming. It was being manned by a young kid Danny didn't recognize. In fact, the whole place was full of new faces.

"Need a top up, doll?"

In the middle of shoveling more egg, McGarrett froze. He lowered his fork. "No thanks."

The waitress cocked her hip. Something about the back of her head was familiar. "You're not from around here."

It wasn't until he was back East that Danny heard just how different people who knew bird as well as Steve talked from everyone else. It was noticeable.

"Hawai'i. Here for work." Williams waited for the usual upselling of his home that Steve loved to dish out, but it didn't come.

"I've always wanted to go to Hawaii. You like Newark so far?"

"Its different." Steve looked over at Danny then gave a shit-eating grin. "My partner told me about this place. It's really good stuff."

"Your-" the coffee pot hit the laminate top with a bang. "Oh my God! Danny Williams! When were you going tell me you were home?"

"Christ, Gee?" She hadn't aged a day. "I though you would have moved on to greener pastures."

"I could never leave my old man. Does Mickey know you're here? No, don't tell me. You though you could sneak around without anyone noticing, am I right?"

McGarrett was laughing openly. "Jesus, Danno. Your face."

"My face? This is my normal face, thank you very much."

Gee dabbed at the tabletop with an off-white handtowel. "You're here early. Most of the usuals are going to be in at seven."

Danny could see the offer between the words. "We have to start getting back. Roll call's at seven ten."

"We're free this weekend." McGarrett was try to eat and sip his water as he talked. It was a complicated juggle.

"Good. Seven on Saturday. The usual table will be set up." She picked up the pot and wiped the bottom. As she walked away Danny wondered if the rest of his past would fall back into place, unchanging, as this moment.  
McGarrett was watching him quietly. There was less distance behind his eyes.

"You alright?"

"I'll be fine." He needed a distraction. "What's the fruit of the poisonous tree?"

Steve's fork scraped on his plate. "Evidence that is inadmissible due to fraudulent or illegal collection."

"And?"

"Confessions under duress."

Danny chewed on a bit of crust. "Good. Now, what is the standard timeline of securing a crime scene?"

The next twenty minutes passed easily. Williams wasn't surprised McGarrett was a quick study. The man had a great memory. He was just impulsive. The last few months had him more manic then usual. It was good to draw him slowly back from the edge.

The check was taken care of the casual way, money on the edge of the table and tip under the syrup jug. As they maneuvered out of the booth Danny asked, "Did you like school?"

"I liked learning and I liked the structure of Annapolis."

"Up at five, down at eleven?"

"My first week in our platoons' cadre blasted Welcome to the Jungle and kicked trashcans down the hall."

"Sounds like a great way to start the morning."

Steve shrugged. "It's funny now." From the corner of his eye Danny noticed the fullbody shudder as they stepped outside.

"You must have been miserable in Maryland."

"At least we had a view. Have you been to West Point?"

"Upstate? A few times. Beautiful in the fall." He and Rachel used to go apple-picking. They would collect pounds of fruit and spend the weekend baking pies. He could almost smell it, the crisp leaf-fall, the exotic perfume of nutmeg and cinnamon.

"It's a grey depressing wasteland in the winter, Danny. A few of us had to go for a tactical practice in November. I was thrilled with the Naval Academy when I got back."

Steve make no move toward the driver's side. It was nice to be the one behind the wheel for a change.

"They didn't teach you about good music though."

"Oh, shut up."

As he steered onto Washington, Danny asked, "What are the parameters for warrant-less search and seizure?"

They went though the gauntlet as the sun begin to poke seeking fingers between the tall dark towers. In the new light the city seemed to burn.


	12. Chapter 12

SA Belden was an inoffensive hypochondriac. The sudden allergies were kept in check by grape flavored cough syrup and Benadryl. She sipped it noisily from travel-sized bottles.

Kalakaua pulled up the receipt uncomfortably in front of prying eyes. She flicked it over to the center monitor. The team had taken a cab from the airport. Their luggage, three identical black cases, were stacked by Williams' locked office.

She met them on the landing of the third floor of state headquarters and guided them into 5-O’s suite. Chin hadn’t come back after they spoke on the phone. She knew he had walked to see Seo. Maybe he needed an early night. 

  
Under Belden were two agents, Dunfires and Rikes, with government haircuts and cheap suits. They looked too warm.

“You can take your jackets off.” The only time even Danny wore them was a night functions were the Governor might make facetime. “It gets pretty hot here.”

Only after Belden shrugged hers off did the others follow.

“Our job is finding the killer, or killers, and their involvement.” Belden’s sleeves were slightly too short and her nails were brittle. She tapped them on the glass surface. Her face twisted when she talked. “We know there must be more than one. Agent Dunfires has analyzed the MOD.” As she spoke Dunfires ported a USB. Kono let the folder open. The spreadsheet was colorcoded.

He picked up the thread from his boss. “The five bodies secured with metal wire were strangled. Eight of the women were shot – two execution style in the back of the head, the rest in the chest or upper abdomen. Seven were hung. Eighteen died of battery, ten of those with severe blunt-force trauma focused on the skull and neck. The rest are undetermined. Possible poisoning but there isn't enough organic material let for analysis."

The final count was fourty seven. There was no second dumping ground. When Kono confronted Kekoa, the other woman only said, "I can't tell you. I have the right to protect my sources."

"Your source was wrong and incited panic."

"Listen, Kalakaua, if you want to clear the record, get someone for the podcast. We can't publish proper information of we're not getting it from somewhere."

Fourty seven bodies and Kekoa was willing to barter each one. Kono looked down at her hands. They were warmed by the glow of the tabletop computer. She double tapped the screen to sharpen the image.

They, she and half a ViCAP team, looked at the paper suspended on the screen. The ink was faded to a dull brown. At the top was an uneven tear. The logo and business name were missing, along with the name of the customer. They had stayed in room 17 on September 23, 1967.

Rikes smoothed a hand over her short hair. "We need to remove all assumptions from the case at this point. To that end I've investigated the receipt and the suitcase." Kalakaua flicked an image of the case to the left and right screens as Rikes spoke. It rotated slowly. "I believe we have narrowed possible locations to three; the Blue Hawaii Motor Court, Aloah Loi Boarding, and the Green Moray. All the businesses were shuttered but I think that the physical records will yield some fruit."

"Why those three?" Either this team was better then most or they were sent here on shit duty to spin their wheels and keep them out of the office. Did the FBI not give their bad eggs basement offices anymore?

Kalakaua had expected more. Chin had a list of ten motor courts, including the ones Rikes listed, yesterday afternoon. He was going to start knocking on doors Monday.

Rikes was still taking. "This was typed. We can determine based on the discoloration the composites and year of ink, with some leway. There were fourteen establishments on Oahu that used this mixture from a supplier out of Texas. Only three were hospitality based."

Kono swiped a thumb across her phone's face. The voice-to-text app she had running shot an email to Chin. It was better to keep him in the loop.

"That's great."

"Because you're from here," Belden licked her chapped lips, "we'll need gumshoe from your end."

"That won't be a problem." She wasn't surprised these Virginia transplants wanted to stay inside. Just disappointed they were so blatant about it. Danny was doing day patrol fourty-eight hours after his paperwork cleared. In a tie.

Dunfires took a call and walked it to the back of the room. Rikes gestured to the spreadsheet.

"I think we're looking at at least three persons. There was a designated leader, possibly chosen by a vote, and each kill was planned except for these." She tapped the graves with mutiple bodies. "In fact, the suitcase girls might have been the very first. There is a definite learning curve exhibited by the killer. The truma is at first serious but random - fractured fingers, wrists, ribs - signs of resistance. Later the cranium is the focal point."  
  
"And the suitcase?"

"It was labeled at one point on the handle. A brand name. And it is not leather, but brittle plastic. The words have flattened over time."

At Rikes' gesture Kalakaua enlarged a section. The marks were faint.

"With some imagine manipulation Quantico suggests it says Royal Traveller. They were produced by Samsonite. Unfortunately the company made a number of these in the early 1960s. They agreed to work with our labs to try and discover any lot discrepancies."

The suitcase still looked like leather to Kono. The handle, if she squinted, could be plastic. The retro kind that her great auntie's kitchen appliances were molded out of. "Why does it look organic?"

"Near as we can figure there was water damage between the hard case and the plastic coating. The discoloration is from being buried in alkaline soil." Rikes never looked at her boss. It was uncomfortable. 

Dunfires ended the call. He walked quickly and spoke to Belden in low tones. She nodded. The lemon-sucking expression tightened the corners of her eyes and mouth.

"If it's alright with you, Officer Kalakaua, we'll retire for the evening and reconvene tomorrow morning."

"That's fine."

They left the USB and some thin files full of chemical analysis. She and Chin had been more successful with less. The agents picked up their cases one by one and move single file out of the room. Kono was reminded of large black ants with spindly legs.

After they left she ordered some Chinese and begin cold calling the records office. They wouldn't close until five.


	13. Chapter 13

A few tables over Danny is pretending to take notes. Jennie Walker, on loan from the DA's office, is using her hands to illustrate proper courtroom attire. There’s another hour left and Steve checks his watch.

The sudden change from twice daily protein bars to a full breakfast left him feeling sick. Half listening he scrawls _ties_ and underlines it. Danny’s impromptu quiz came in handy as they had been shuffled into pairs and forced to interrogate others on evidence handling. They had gone down the multiple choice rapid fire. Greg Washington, from Atlanta by way of the deep woods of Georgia, tapped his pen on a yellow looseleaf. It was blank.

“Taking notes?”

“Yeah.” Steve took a pull from his water bottle. The room was kept slightly too warm. They had been shuttled to Essex County College. He hadn’t ever been in a classroom this big. At Annapolis the classes were not more than forty large.

“It’s real easy.” Washington gestured to Walker. “Just dress like that and do what the lawyer says. State wants to protect their interests – easy.”

“Huh.”

Danny’s tablemate was texting on a clamshell. Williams was doodling what looked like the layout of a scene. Steve covertly opened his folder. Yeah, it was going to be used in Tactical Security. He had done his planing on the shuttle, folder on this lap and pen jittering over every pothole. It reminded him of long crawls to a drop point reading maps by the red lights inside the belly of stripped military aircraft.

“-and pair up.” Walker nodded. With that she sat at the desk, leaving her binder on the podium. As she worked on her tablet she never looked over. Steve flipped his legal pad closed and tucked his pen away.

Washington shrugged towards McGarrett. “Got that?”

“No.”

“Practice testimony questions. Chapter Four.” They turned to the right section in silence.

Steve scanned the stilted back and forth. It was all opened ended questions. “Are they serious?”

“You want to be on the stand or what?” Was all Washington said. He was scratching between his front teeth with a dull toothpick.

“You.” Steve settled back into his chair. Danny was pacing in front of his table, re-enacting _My Cousin Vinny_. The man he was paired with looked amused. Steve was reminded of that old joke. _There were three spies, a Brit, a Frenchman, and an Italian_. _They were being tortured for information. The Brit gave up quickly. The Frenchmen took more time. Finally, after hours and hours of suffering, the Italian was rescued. His superiors asked why he did not break. “They tied my hands to the chair! I couldn’t speak.”_

“Alright.” When Washington leaned back his chair groaned. “Here we go: ‘Please describe for the record Mr. MacGarrett-’”

“McGarrett.”

“Whatever. ‘Please describe the procedure of collecting wet evidence.’”

“The scene is secured and photographed. A minimal team in allowed in to process and collect evidence. All saturated evidence is handed with non-latex, non-powered gloves to minimize – “

“Hold on.” Washington put up a hand. The pen was drooping between his fingers. He was slackfaced, bored. “This isn’t a dissertation. Average jury has the education of an eighth grader. Keep it simple. You pick up the shit and put it in a paper bag, it gets signed so people know it wasn’t fucked with until it goes to court. Easy.”

“I thought the purpose was to describe the procedure.” McGarrett thumbed forward a bit. At this rate they wouldn’t get to the second page by the time they had to go. Washington chewed his pen then tossed it onto the table.

“This is bull.” He leaned forward. “Do you think we came up here to rehash this for a month? Shit, I came because we’re thirty minutes from Manhattan and I haven’t had a vacation in ten years.” Whatever face Steve made caused him to wave a hand. “Alright next question: ‘There has been a shooting. You are the first responding officer. What do you do?’”

“Follow TCCC protocol. Treat the casualty; prevent additional casualties; and complete the mission. Early use of tourniquets to control clinically important extremity hemorrhage. Systemic antibiotic prophylaxis near point of injury. Tactically appropriate intravenous or intraosseous access and fluid resuscitation.” Steve paused, racked his memory. It had been ages since he memorized this. “Improved battlefield analgesia. Nasopharyngeal airways as first-line airway devices. Surgical airways for maxillofacial trauma with an obstructed airway. Aggressive diagnosis and treatment of tension pneumothorax via needle decompression. Incorporation of input from CCC providers into TCCC guidelines. Employment of tactically and clinically-relevant scenarios into TCCC training.”

“Where the hell did you come from? It’s just THREAT, man. Five steps. Threat suppression, hemorrhage control, rapid extrication, assessment by EMS, and transport to definitive care.” Washington ticked them off on his fingers as he spoke. “Eighth grade. You’re not going to need to improvise surgical airways or whatever.”

“It’s a trach.”

“A what?”

“A trach. Preventable death due to hemorrhage is as high as eighty percent. Ventilatory failure leading to preventable death can be as high as fifteen. So you make in incision and provide air prior to the obstruction.”

Washington’s eyes went wide. “Jesus fuck. You’re saying you cut open a guy’s neck so he can breathe.”

“Yeah. Basically. In eighth grade terms.” He could remember the training. Sitting in cramped rooms that stunk of bleach reading BUMED material and the unspoken words that if you don’t get this down to habit someone will die.

They looked at each other. Washington smoothed his palm across the page. “Have you?”

Steve glanced down, over to Danny, to the lines of questions in the book. “That’s classified.” He wasn’t angry. He breathed in _two three four_ out _two three four_. It was disgust and annoyance. Nothing more suffocating, nothing too dangerous for either of them. Steve imagined he was at the pool pounding through the water. He breathed the same way.

“Right. Next one: ‘What should you do when approached by a member of the jury?’”

“Report them to the bailiff. Court’s discretion on how to proceed.” Managing the chambers wasn’t his role.

“You’ve never given courtroom testimony before.”

“It’s not usually my job. The taskforce provides statements to the court. Usually written. Once there was video testimony.” McGarrett shrugged. Danny took care of it, explaining what need to be put down and what didn’t and what was best alluded to. They had a high conviction rate. Confessions helped.

“Damn. Most of my OT is though shit at court. Easy way to hit sixty plus a week.”

Steve tossed his book on the table. He had a salary. “Let’s get this out of the way.”

Washington shrugged. “Let’s.” The room was full of low murmurs. It reminded McGarrett of the sea.

“I’m not a cop.” US Navy Sea-Air-Land (SEAL) naval special warfare corpsmen. That’s what he was. That’s what he would always be. And the damage that came with it was like a monkey on his back, tearing at his hair, screeching.

“No shit.”

“So, I’m here to learn how to work with them.”

“It’s a job, at the end of the day. Same as yours. It pays and then you go play.”

“Really.” That’s not how Danny worked. Not how 5-O worked.

“Make it easy on yourself. I’m not saying be the LAPD. No one wants that heat. But when it comes down to it? Protect and severe isn’t our job description.” Washington nodded. “Not according to the Supreme Court of the land. I’ll be honest, because you’re out of your depth. If you’re not a cop don’t try and be one.”

Steve just stared at him. He had a very thin neck.

“So none of this crap matters. Due process don’t really apply.” Washington shoved back from the table. “We’re almost done. I’m playing hooky. Don’t tell teach.”

Steve watched him leave. Danny leaned on the table. “Your lab partner cutting out early?”

“Yeah.”  His watched beeped. They both looked way after Steve silenced it.

“That the old one or…”

“New. I’m going to the bathroom.”

“Don’t drown. I don’t want to call the Coast Guard.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

The toilets were empty. After he dosed he refilled his bottle from the tap. The water was metallic here. It sometimes give McGarrett the feeling of cotton-mouth.

Danny was waiting outside. “I’m all for following the rules.” His hands were in his pockets.

Steve joined him. “But?”

“Is there attendance?”

“Yes.” There was a sign-in sheet taped to the door over every seminar. “And we have to go to everything. We’re not paying for it.”

“Exactly.” Danny grinned and shook his head. “We’ll have to duck out early.”

“Only if it runs over.” Steve caught Williams’ expression. “You are not going to use my appointments as an excuse. Plus, it’s tactics. I can do it in my sleep.”

“Ah, you can do SEAL tactics in your sleep. Not civilian tactics. There is less mayhem.”

After the needling they pulled out their plans to compare. Danny’s was cautious and a timid. McGarrett’s was effective. A bit too effective.

“Look, you’re not clearing the space. Not like this. You want them alive. Dead people can’t tell you things.”

“I know.”

“I know you know. Why did you write this then? It’s for a seven man team. Oh.” Danny’s grin was wicked. “Is this just to prove you still can?”

“Maybe.” Steve didn’t like this feeling. Like he was a bit slow, a bit behind. He would end up dissecting it later with Pauzicka. He knew it. Better to keep to higher ground, know the terrain. He knew Danny. “You ready for tomorrow morning?”

Danny shrugged. “Course. Gee’s gonna smooth everything over.”

“Will I need to be briefed?” He was a little nervous. Before 5-O he knew everyone he worked with for most of his life. The last time he needed to make friends was Basic, dodging embarrassment with his fellow midshipmen.

“Nah. I want to see how well you can swim.”

“I’m an expert.” There was more, Steve could see. “And?”

“Ma called. She knows you like fish. She wants to drag us out to Long Island, Montauk area. Next weekend. The girls are coming too, the whole family.” Minus Matty. Minus Grace. “Local stuff so no pineapple or twitching squid.”

“The squid wasn’t alive.” McGarrett protested.

“It was still moving. I don’t like to be Frenched by my food, Steven.”

“Sure. Say yes. I’d like that.”

“Alright.”

They stood for a moment. Nearby a few girls meandered down the stars and ducked into a classroom. Through the door McGarrett could see the seats were full to a man.

“Shall we?”

Steve tapped the bottle in his pocket. Only three more weeks. “Let’s shall.”


	14. Chapter 14

Her hands are bony and liver-spotted. When she runs her fingers along the surface of the photographs Chin can see them shake.

"Her name was Patricia."

The composites of C14 and D7 were released Friday afternoon. The local news showed the drawings five times before the ten o'clock exclusive and seven times throughout Saturday morning. It was now creeping towards evening. In the next room was the hush whirr of wheelchairs and the scrape of plasticware.

"Was that her legal name?"

"I don't know." Her eyes were clear for now. Kelly could see the confusion lurking at the edges.

The photo was one of a bundle displayed on a scuffed chess table.

"Joan, I know this is hard." On the back of the picture were fifteen names. In the center of the group was D7. Below was written at the Beach 1951 and Our Lady of Provenance Orphanage. Patricia's eyes looked hollow in the sepia glare.

"Most of the girls were pregnant. We did what we could. Gave them a place, food, jobs."

"There was a cost to that." Kelly kept his voice even. Kalakaua was better at this - a calm wind and a steady hand. The room had a distracting smell. Mothballs and perfume-heavy vapor, notes of artificial hibiscus and pineapple. A chemical cleaner bottled in the Midwest. Chin shut his eyes for a moment.

"They couldn't keep the children. Some, I think, weren't wholly Catholic. They didn't speak English. They got better with time." Joan patted the tips of her fingers on the girls' faces. "Patricia got a job at a motor court, you know. Cleaning rooms, preparing breakfast. She was a Godly girl. Back in those days it was put outside the door with the paper. The breakfasts. They don't do that here."

"I imagine not." Kelly's voice was dry.  
Joan blinked heavily. "And how long have you been with the police?"

"Over sixteen years."

"Is it hard, as an Oriental?"

"Ah," this makes him stutter. "No." His smile feels like it's about to splinter. "Do you remember when Patricia went missing?"

"Girls left all the time, boy. Left their babies and off into the night." Her seeking fingers pat the sleeve of his shirt. Her fingers are brittle. He can see raised blue veins spider-webbing the back of her hands. He can see the pulse.   
"I don't know the date. It was right after Kennedy. Oh, that year was madness, I tell you. But she vanished."

"Where there adoption records?"

"Yes. They were kept at the church. It was never put on the computer, but there should be the books at least. One of the universities want to microfilm them but that was, oh, thirty years ago. I don't know if it ever happened. I'd been retired."

"How did you remember?"

"Remember what?"

"Patricia's face?"

"I... I don't know." The dullness was rolling in fast. He was going to lose her.

"Can I take these? Can I take these pictures?"

"Yes."   
Chin tips the pictures into a plastic evidence bag. He checks the time on his phone, scrawls the information down.

"One more: Did she leave a baby? Did Patricia leave a child?"

He can see that the nun is gone, slipped somewhere he cannot reach. Chin doesn't want follow. He waves over a nurse.

“I’m done here. Who is her legal representative? I’ll need to talk to them.”

“It’s on file. Give me a minute.”

Kelly follows her to the front desk. Her shoes squeak on the tile. The view through the glass front doors is a parking lot, and beyond that a cemetery. The sunset is behind them. All Chin can see are long shadows.

“St. Augustus is paying for her care. I can give you the number of the firm that is on retainer. I don’t know which lawyer.”

“That’s plenty.” 

“Anything else?”

“I may need to talk to her again. Just call the 5-O office and leave a message.”

The nurse looks washed out in her scrubs. “Alright.”

He met Kono at Kamekona's. The discount wasn't much but she was buying.   
He found her sitting at the table closest to the sea. Her rubbers were kicked off and her feet was damp and coated in sand. Kono was red and sweating.

"How was hitting the pavement?"

"Great. Still need to look into the motels."

"I thought that was Rikes' job."

Kalakaua stabbed her shrimp angrily. "She slept in 'til ten. I got to play the go between."

"Boss not happy?"

"None of them are. Did you know Dunfires was reprimanded twice last year for falsified travel requisitions?"

"They didn't fire him?"

"No. His father works with the Joint Chiefs."

"Great." The shrimp is good and Kelly applies himself. They both get seconds. The beers sit unopened. Kono draws meandering shapes in the sand with her toes.

"Did Kekoa come by this morning?"

"No." Chin left the woman four messages and sent an email to the editor. She was out on emergency assigment, apparently. He cleared Sunday just in case. "Can you keep ViCAP out of the building tomorrow?"

"Sure. I'll have them set up at HPD headquarters. Right now they're working out of a hotel east of there."

"Good." Kelly snaps the top off his bottle with the edge of the table. It hisses slightly and still holds a chill. It cools him down a bit. Kono peels the label off her's. "I'm going to the parish in Monday. If Patricia had a child and agrees to a DNA test we'll have one body identified."

"What about the three of a kind?"

"Seo hasn't gotten back to me. Just have to wait."

"Did that nun give you enough for a warrant?"

"No. Reconstruction is too open-ended. But if we get something from the church records that might give us enough cause to get a warrant for the motel. Patricia worked at the Green Moray."

"Damn." She pushed the tails around. "So you think there could be a connection with the orphanages?"

"If the bodies were limited to the sixties, maybe. But only months ago the last body was killed. I think this is xenophobic violence."

They finished the second plate in silence. Kalakaua lets her phone vibrate on the warm wood. Chin can see Fong's name. She ignores it so he lets it go.

"We'll get them, cuz." Kono's voice is sure. "We'll get them all."


	15. Chapter 15

The engine stopped clicking into cold a while ago.  
  
"If you wanted to show up unnoticed we're far past that."  
  
"I know." Danny didn't look at the dash. Six thirty had come and gone. They were parked at the far end of the lot. If they were in Hawaii this would be the moment that distress would come down the line; a North Korea spy or the Snakehead or a loose payload. But this was Jersey and the only surprising event was that Luke Kelly  still wore a fugly green overcoat. Derrick Tappin's battered two door was crouched next to three balck and whites and an Oldsmobile with an chipped tan paint job.  
  
"I'm getting cold." Steve was finally up to a day med free. Danny hoped they could last until the Shore. The sandbars, the real of the sea, should be enough to get McGarrett through the day.   
  
"Whine, whine, bitch, bitch." Danny shoved himself out of the car. He didn't look to see if Steve followed. The passenger door slammed and quick footsteps came from behind.   
  
"It'll be fine." McGarrett was always good for assurance.   
  
"I'm not worried."  
  
"Never said you were."  
  
The clock behind the counter read five to seven. Gee was wiping down the tall rotating cake display. "Oh, good. They're in the back. You want the usual?"  
  
"Sure." Danny couldn't remember what his usual was. Steve was silent next to him. The doors to the room were open and as they entered Tappen looked up.  
  
"Chrisy! It's Williams!"  
  
There was a general cheer from the table. They were bullied into seats, Steve between two rookies and Danny flanked by his old partner and Frank Chrisy. Tappen was trying to describe a domestic involving three feral chickens. It felt good to laugh. The tabletop was so clean it shined. When Danny sat the chair felt like it was about to collapse. God, this was what he missed.  
  
A waitresses topped up all the coffees. Williams heard McGarrett ask for water in an undertone. She nodded, clicked her pen.  
  
"Usuals for you animals?"  
  
Danny grinned. "Sure, Dana." It was like he never left. The coffee was too hot and darkly bitter.  
  
"And this is the new guy?" Chrisy was all about inclusion. "What's your name?"  
  
"Steve."  
  
"How long have you been a cop?"  
  
"About three years," Danny said for him. "He's still learning the ropes."  
  
"Danny's good for that. He learned from the best. Should trickle down some."  
  
Steve nodded. "You mean Gracie?"  
  
The mood dropped to somber. "Nah." Tappen shrugged. "I meant me. He tell you about that?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Huh."   
  
It slowly veered shop talk to personal things; one of the rookies was complaining about a roommate.  
  
"Dude nods off to death metal."  
  
Steve nodded. "Danno lets the infomercials lull him to sleep."  
  
"Jesus." Tappen shoved some ham melt into his mouth. "I thought Bett's snoring was awful."  
  
Danny joined in with the ribbing. He felt his phone vibrate. Steve was distracted by Gee so he suck a look. The message was from Kono. It has to be midnight oil time.  
  
 **Got a familial match on a body. Waiting for records.**

Danny wanted to shout. This was fantastic... and Steve couldn't know. Williams watched McGarrent trade fishing stories with Runfield, who's partner was complaining, "Damn it, Jim, that fish gets bigger every time you tell that story" and they all laughed.

 **Thanks** , he sent back. The pancakes were thick and the bacon was just this side of burnt. On a whim he snapped a few pictures (the food, Steve with his mouth full, Tappen gesturing his way though a dramatic princess themed birthday party) and sent them to Kalakaua. She replied **:)** and  **good night**. He let her go. He'd send Gracie the same shots in a few hours. 

"What you got there?" Williams could hear the food. 

"Jesus, Steven. Getting some pics for Grace."

"Think she'll bug Stan enough to get her a ticket?"

"No."

"Not even to see your mom?" Danny knew that expression. It was the one that was an odd mix of sly and embaressed.

"What did you do?"

Steve wagged his own phone. "I may have asked Rachel how terrfying your family is."

"You met my mother. You  _liked_ my mother. I don't remember this concern when I asked you yesterday."

"I was preoccupied yesterday." McGarrett stressed the words. "And that was just your mom. I might die from blast-wave exposure."

"'Blast-wave'?" Tappen snorted next to him. "From what?"

"From the noise." Chrisy was trying no to coke on his eggs. 

"You know what, for that you're not invited."

"You already said I was going." 

"I'm uninviting you. You can stay in your room."

"What? Why? What did I do?"

"You texted my ex-wife about my family."

"I wanted an honest opinion!" One of the rookies awkwardly tried to cut his food and avoid bumping Steve, who was leaned back and crossed his arms. There was a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead.

"You could'of asked me. You could'of said, 'Hey, Danny, be honest with me. Should I be worried about meeting your family?' and I would have said, 'Yes, they're all crazy.' Alright?"

"Alright."

"Was that very hard?"

"I said you were right!"

"When? You never said I was right!"

"I did! I said 'Alright'. The agreement was implied."

"Implied. Im-plied. Fine. I'll let it go."

"Fine." McGarrett took a pointedly long drink of water. He added snappishly. "Do worry. I'll be on my best behavior." Then he stood. "I'm.. I'll be right back." He walked off towards the bathrooms.

Tappen leaned close to Williams and whispered, "Want to drag that sad sack over tonight? Game and a slice. He looks like he needs less... noise."

"Sure." He needed it too.

"What are you doing after this?"

Danny flexed a hand. "Heading to the shore. I think he's sick of the hotel pool.'

"The pool." They both looked out the window. "Christ."

Chrisy was sorting out the check with Dana. He was covering Steve's meal, which had been abandoned after the argument. After everything was settled Danny found McGarrent in front of the cake display. Everything looked perfect, the icing looped and pearled like art.

"Should we get something for dinner with your family?" Another sideways apology, the McGarrett special. 

"Sure. We can swing by. My sisters like Black Forest." And the way Danny learned to say 'I forgive you'. His dad had really done a number on Steve. For all of living in a place that valued emotions this man hated them.

Everyone parted outside, staggering off in twos or threes. Tappen was one of the last to go. "Have fun at the beach boys. There's some good waves."

Steve looked thrilled as they trooped back to the car. Danny's phone buzzed. He let his mother's call go to voice mail.


	16. Chapter 16

It was chilly inside so they moved to the rooftop. The mic was pointed towards his face like a blind snake. Kekoa had waved off his offer to help. She staggered under the weight of the equipment but only said, "Make sure you have good answers Kelly."

Kono was following up on the hit. Patrica did have a child. A boy born on May 23rd, seven pounds even and adopted to the Mainland four months later. She had not been allowed to see him in the hospital. Before he was gone forever there was no record that she had ever seen him. 

The recorder clicked on. Kekoa did the usual introduction then muted it for where the music would be spliced in. 

"Officer Kelly has been with HPD for a long time. He currently heads the Five-O taskforce here on O'ahu. We are here due to an unusual and disturbing investigation. Discretion is advised. Thank you for allowing this interview Officer."

"You're welcome." While Chin Ho avoided making assumptions he had never liked Kekoa. She had an over-eager half-starved look. 

"Now can you speak plainly about the nature of this case?"

"We can confirm that a killer or killers targeted women of a period of time."

"Can you confirm that they were all native Hawai'ian women?" 

"Not at this time. There are a number of bodies." It would be an amateur mistake to say more then he needed to. "The FBI has been allowed to assist after a request from the Governor. What I can confirm is that there is a possibility these were hate crimes." 

"Is the FBI taking over the case? Will they get the collar?"

"No. First and foremost the FBI collects and processes evidence. They will then suggest action to the Department of Justice. In this case the arrest and prosecution will be done by the State of Hawai'i."

"Thank you for that clarification, Chin." She smiles like a grouper fish, gaping and with a deep maw. He would never call her by her first name. They are not friends. 

"You're welcome."

"Is it true.." She shuffles some papers loudly enough for the mics to pick it up. "Is it true that you have identified one of the women?" Kekoa has a heavily redacted paper from the lab. FOIA request must have been rushed. Any answer would be the wrong one. They sit in silence. The sun was hot on the top of his head. The water bottles sweated rings onto the table. Kekoa took a sip of hers.

"Alright. Officer Kelly, could you tell me what progress you have made so far?"

"We have created a database of the DNA collected from the victims. This is what is known as the 'unknown' samples. They are currently being compared to the Missing Persons Database on the Mainland."

"At the University of North Texas?"

"Yes. They have been working with us closely these past few days."

"Being that this comparison is being done on the Mainland - does that not mean that there is mostly Mainlanders in that database?"

"We must explore every option to exhaustion. The database is Dallas is the largest in North America."

"But nothing yet.'

"Nothing yet."

"What can listeners do to help?"

"Donate samples. The sooner we know who these women are the sooner we can find out who did this to them."

"One last thing. Can you confirm that there are a few people who are related to each other who have been discovered in these 'unknown' samples?"

Chin took a deep breath. "I can. We have found three first cousins."

Something flickers behind Kekoa's dark eyes. It might be sympathy. Maybe this might become more then a vehicle to hitch her journalism to. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"So am I."

The water in the bottle is tepid. She lets him swallow before she plows on. "What is your opinion about the method of the crimes?"

"There were done with planning. Every effort was made to scrub the bodies of evidence. Someone wanted to make them faceless, but their bodies will speak."

The tape inside spun. Kekoa turned it off. "I think I'm going to end it there. To pad this to thirty minutes I'll add bites from the Chief and the Gov. This is getting dropped Monday. If you want to add more -"

"Kono has your card. I know how to get to you if I need to."

When she stands she blocks out the sun. The shadow is not any cooler. Nearby a frog calls, shrill in the green. 

Kekoa sticks out her hand. "Thank you, Kelly."

They shake. He does not watch her go. When the door slams he walks to the edge of the roof and leans on the wist-high barer. There is a moment where he thinks about what would happen if he swings a leg over the top and lets the momentum pull him off. He's never been suicidal but these ideas - intrusive thoughts - have always dogged him. McGarrett is more likely to act on his but Kelly's have always been darker. When they find the killers his thoughts will be like pitch. Dark and flammable. 


	17. Chapter 17

Steve watched Danny across the room. He was talking to Tappen and fishing a slice out of the box. None of them were really watching the t.v. It had just kicked into halftime. Next to him on the couch was Betty, Tappen's wife. Her slice was sagging her paper plate. 

A cat watched them from the top of the plush chair. It had yellow eyes.

"I heard you went to the beach today." She ate her piece in massive bites.

"Yeah." It had been good to get away from the city noises. "Not like back home."

"Chilly?"

"Like you wouldn't believe." The shock almost knocked him for a good one. Danny had stuck to the sand, yelling. McGarrett couldn't hear him over the surf. He assumed it was slightly panicked. It always was. The world felt like it was clearing up. The meds must have been working but they dragged at him. He felt aware.

"What did you do? I like to get Devil's Purses." She explained. "Their egg sacs for something. Black and alien things. There's spines on the corners." He had seen those. They felt leathery. The seaweed here was rope-like with hard knots. They were dark. he didn't like the way they twisted around his legs. The sea here was dark. The sand felt like mud. There was hard slat here, untempered by the heat of the sun or the boiling earth below.

"I went swimming."

Betty chuckled though her food. "You did?" She saw is face. "You did, oh my God. You must have been freezing."

"It was alright. I really like swimming." He knew Williams was keeping something from him. He mentioned as much to Pauzicka. Steve wasn't stupid. He checked the news. He knew what was happening in O'ahu. Did they think he would, what, jump on the next plane back and take over? He knew why he was here. It wasn't just for the training. It was the distance. 

"Yeah." Betty sank back into her spot. "Do you like it here?"

"Jersey? It's alright."

She nodded. "I'm from Bedford-Stuyvesant."

"Nice place." McGarrett had no idea where that was. 

"Brooklyn. When it was broke and we didn't have to fight with all the yippies. You wouldn't know it to see it now, but the whole area looked like us." She pointed to Tappen. 

Steve set his plate on the low table. The cat wasn't interested in pizza. "Hawai'i's the same way. Lot of people moving in."

"Your a local?" Betty gave him a look he couldn't read.

"Born and bred."

"You know any Hawaiian?" She was keenly interested. The room was warm and outside the bare branches shuttered against the window. 

"Sure." Danny and Tappen were coming back. Williams had a few slices stacked on his plate. He hoped his partner took some acid reflex tabs. McGarrett didn't want to hear about heartburn all the way back to the bay.  

"Can you say something?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"Hum. How would you introduce yourself?"

"Aloha. No Steve McGarrett ko'u inoa. O O'ahu Mai au. He kanakolu o'u makahiki."

"That was amazing. Sounds like, I don't know, Japanese almost."

Steve shrugged. "It's not much. I know enough to get in trouble."

Betty gripped his arm. She had strong fingers. "Don't we all."

"Don't we all what?" Danny asked. There was a sauce stain on the front of his shirt. The tie kept flopping on his plate. Tappen had taken his off. Maybe Danny was trying to prove a point. Steve had no idea what it could be.

"Love you." She tugged him next to her. "I missed you Dan. While Rachel was off doing things you and I used to get up to everything."

At Steve's look Danny shook his head. "We used to got to the Bronx Zoo on the weekdays. Betty just liked to watch the wolves."

"The Mexican wolves! They got moved to Detroit, I think. Years ago." She bumped a hip into Steve's. "Derk and I have member passes. We can take you. You get off at three on weekdays right? Member's Night is Monday. Open late, small crowds. There's a bird house. It's super exotic so it'll be like your backyard."

"That sounds nice." Danny said.

"Sure. I've got no plans." He was getting sick of the takeout by the hotel. It was like a bad horror book, long hallways and repeating carpeting and the stale rotten smell of transient places. Also, he was tried of Danny hiding in the bathroom for midnight phone calls. 

Tappen watched them from his chair. The cat waved its tail like a standard then fled as the t.v roared. It was a touchdown highlight. Browns had lost 23-10. Steve couldn't remember who they had been playing. The Rams, it looked like. They settled there in the early evening and let the noises of the game wash over them. 


	18. Chapter 18

Bergman's immaturity was usually a great distraction. It wasn't going will with Belman's team though. They had carefully listed the known women; each a pushpin all across the island for each last know address.

Kono was getting tired of mounting stairs to knock of weathered doors. She sat on a stool off to the side, feet hooked around the legs, and tried to ignore the chill. He kept it arctic in here. Chin's interview had gone well. The surge of support led to here; over ten thousand people donated DNA samples which were crossed with the data in Texas. Bergman watched the feds carefully.

"What do you think?" She asked.

"I think that they are doing good work, but their closure rate is lower then Five-Os. I think you and Chin, with their tech, can solve this quickly. I do hope that Steve and Danny will back soon." He had a foppish smell - old sweat and bleach. Kono smiled tightly. 

"Thanks." She checked her phone again. Nothing from Danny, but right now nothing was exactly what was supposed to happen. It didn't make her feel any better though. There was an email from a document speicalist and a follow up on the suitcase. Both nice to have but not useful.

Something drew her up short. It was a long shot but she called Chin anyway. Bergman watched her duck out of the room but didn't say anything.

"Hey cuz." The hot air hit like a wave. There wasn't enough clouds so she hurried to her car. 

"Howzit?"

Kono cracked on the A/C. "The suitcase. It's part of a set. I know its a long shot but if we need to toss a place that'd be something to keep an eye out for."

"The odds of that -"

"Nothing gets thrown out on this island. Not really."

"Right."

"How's the follow up on the motor courts?"

"I think that's the connection."

All the women had worked at a motor home, most at the Green Moray from 1960 to 1984. The last three decades of victims came from a new resort-style hotel off Dune Point, fifteen miles from the old motor court stomping grounds.

They had names and places. Now they just needed to catch the sick bastards. 

"Good, good. Have we got approval for a stake out?"

The was silence. 

"You have to be kidding me."

"The judge wants more, especially because we don't even have a profile."

"Sure we do." Kono slammed a hand against her wheel. It slipped off. She was blinking away sweat.  "A gaggle of racists. Or a pack. Whatever word you want to use. If this was a bunch of whi-"

"I know."

She could hear the engine clicking. In front of the car a few birds hopped in the grass. The view was perfect, all the way to the edge of the thick woods. How scared were they? Kono swallowed. "So are we sitting on the lack of a profile right now?"

"That and a lack of time-line for the collar." 

She sighed and leaned her head on the window. It was warm and her skin stuck to it. "What kind of budget are we looking at?"

"They don't care. The grant looked good for press but it won't last if we run 24/7 on the place at Dune Point."

"Do you know anyone there?" She was hungry but hated eating before she saw the bodies.

"No. I've got a contact at the Hilton and anther at the White Sands."

"If I go in..." Kono trailed off.

Chin just waited. He was good at that. She could see her breath dampening the window. 

"I've done it before."

"I know."

The roots of her hair was knotted with sweat. Her whole body felt tacky. The waves were perfect this morning, tepid and strong with the tide. "I'll file the request tomorrow."

"Do you want me to bring by dinner?"

"No. I'm... I'm going to see my mom." The fan blew cold air on her face. It made her eyes feel dry. She squinted against it. 

Neither hung up. She watched the dance of the leaves. She wanted this case to be over. She wanted to go home and sleep for a month.

Finally, Chin cleared his throat. "Thank you, Kono."

She swallowed hard. "Yeah. Just, save it until we finish this, okay?"

When he rung off she sat there and cried.

 

 

 


End file.
